Rapture, The Shining City Beneath the Sea
by Idea Overflow
Summary: This is a semi-novelization of the game BioShock, with a twist. What if Jack wasn't walking about alone but had someone there to help guide him in person, it's better than it sounds I'm going to keep pretty faithful to the game level by level Jack/OC


Here be my first BioShock fanfic, I hope you all enjoy it, I glued my eyes to a video walkthrough to get this XD

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**The Ocean And Descent Into Rapture**

Squeezing down the aisle past all the people was always uncomfortable, but he thought it was worth it to get to get to his destination. The man pushed past the final few people and sat in his seat. "I'm just several hours away from arriving." He reclined in his seat, noticing out of the corner of his eye that in the aisle on the left side of the plane there was a woman staring at him hungrily.

Shifting in his seat uncomfortably, he could feel her eyes boring a hole into the side of his head. He dared look over to the woman to complain, but when he did he regretted it. The woman took that as a sign of interest and jumped to an open seat next to him. She began talking, leaving no room for him to make any comment back. All that her captive was able to recall before he toned her out was that her name was Susan, she was single, and that she thought he had "nice strong facial features…"

Several hours later, he awoke from his spaced moment to realize that Susan had finally stopped talking, as she had fallen asleep, and that it was the dead of night. He sighed in relief, although he was a bit disappointed that his plane ride was ruined by what was proven to be unwanted attention.

He lit up a cigarette and smoked it for several moments as he resituated, looking at the package from his father. The card read "To Jack." A faint smile played on his face at what he was called. Jack reached into his back pocket and pulled out a wallet, looking into the photo of his parents with himself standing right behind them. Smiling fondly, he ran his thumb over the picture, just before putting it back in his pocket.

Everything shook, and then in the blink of an eye went dark. Only screams, gunfire, and a crash reached his ears before the rough, freezing water brought him back. Jack awoke from his stupor submerged in the ocean. He watched as a woman's purse fell past his line of sight, her necklace falling out. Jack struggled against the water to turn himself upright, his lungs already desperate for air. He swam for the surface, avoiding a still-spinning propeller that dropped below the surface.

The wing fell into the sea and drifted farther into the depths. For a moment he forgot his desperate situation, amazed that he survived. His lungs burned for oxygen, once again reminding him he was human. Jack moved his arms and legs as fast as he could and broke through to the surface with a large gasp.

Looking around at the horrific scene, Jack felt cold for a reason other than the water. The plane was in pieces and everything was ablaze. The survivor looked around, a hopeless feeling coming over him. "Hello!? Did anyone else survive!?" He yelled out with no returning answer reaching him. He swallowed. There was no land, just wreckage and flames that licked the sky.

Looking at the unforgiving, dark waters, his fate was staring him in the face. "Not without a fight," He growled to himself, swimming toward a gap he spotted in the ring of fire that surrounded him. "If I can get to that piece of the plane I'll be safer, least out of the water." When Jack got closer to the floating safe ground, the fire raced forward and his only chance was turned to flames.

Jack fell beneath the water a moment- he hadn't noticed how tired he was- and forcing himself back to the surface, he looked for another way out. Like a vision from heaven, there it was, a tower, a firmly planted, above-ground tower beckoning him forward. Jack swam toward it as fast as he could muster. He climbed the steps past two partially submerged lamps; this place must've been old, the water's a lot higher than it used to be some years ago.

Jack wrung out his sopping wet hair and the loose parts of his shirt, although it didn't do him much good as he was still almost entirely soaked, as he climbed the stairs to the monolith tower. He pushed open the double doors and peeked in, he knew that there must have been a radio or some other way that he could make contact with the coastguard.

The interior was pitch black. Jack steadily stepped forward, unsure of what would happen next. Just a few steps in, the lights suddenly flipped on. Jack almost leaped out of his skin. "Who's there!?" When no reply, came he was baffled. "If no one's here, then how did the lights…" He trailed off, staring at the large statue with a red banner draped across, welcoming him with the slogan "No Gods or Kings Only Man"

Jack went farther into the tower; the insides were spacious and ornate. As he went deeper and deeper he became steadily less surprised as the self-working lights would turn on as he passed by. He couldn't find any means of contact yet, so Jack continued to venture within the lone sea bound structure. There were few ways he could go, and the only one he could find was a winding staircase that led downward. The lower and lower he went into the depths, the more confused he became. There was nothing there that indicated anything; no signs of people, corporations, or machinery.

Puzzled, Jack turned one more corner, praying that something would be there. He got exactly that. There was an unmanned bathysphere; there was no sign of how to use it without the use of outside help. Against his better judgment Jack stepped inside and looked around. He grinned when he saw the radio perched on the wall. Jack grabbed it and started turning it, looking for some sort of frequency that would let him talk to someone. There was nothing, only static. Jack sighed, replacing the failure of communication on the wall.

He turned, looking for something else that could help him, only to have his eye caught by the submersion lever. He paused, staring at it, something inside himself beckoning him to pull the lever and sink to the ocean floor inside it. Before he knew what he had done, the lever was down and the door was closing. Jack watched out the window as the bathysphere sank.

10 Fathoms

18 Fathoms

His counting of the depth was interrupted as music began to play and a slide projection appeared on the wall, a logo with an oddly shaped building similar to the tower he entered sitting upon the sea. Then a puzzling slide of a man lighting a woman's cigarette with his finger appeared on the wall reading, "Fire at your Fingertips! Incinerate, Plasmids by Ryan Industries." Next was a slide of a man with a pipe in an easy chair read, "From the Desk of Ryan."

Then an audio played, "I am Andrew Ryan, and I am here to ask you a question. Is a man not entitled to the sweat of his brow? No, says the man in Washington, it belongs to the poor. No, says the man in the Vatican, it belongs to God. No, says the man in Moscow, it belongs to everyone. I rejected those answers. Instead, I chose something different. I chose the impossible. I chose... Rapture." The words were accompanied by slides to prove its point. The pictures were a man wiping his brow, an eagle swooping on a man, a hand reaching from the sky toward a man, and sickle and hammer attacking a man, and back to Andrew Ryan.

The window where the slides played shifted down, showing rocks with coral, then the spectacular sight of the city of Rapture. A large squid swam past the bathysphere, past a school of fish, further in past statues, bridges, a whale and flickering neon signs all pushing products. All the while the recording continued on. "A city where the artist would not fear the censor, where the scientist would not be bound by petty morality, where the great would not be constrained by the small. And with the sweat of your brow, Rapture can become your city as well."

The bathysphere reached a tunnel as the recording rolled to a close. there were neon signs that read, "Flow into the city." He came to a wall, more advertisements for these plasmid things. The bathysphere started going up, the only going out in the journey to the city. Strange voices echoed.

"Just one more minute… you're cutting out!"

"… Get a move on!"

The voices stopped as Jack came to a stop to a dimly lit scene, a man several feet away, his back turned. He was backing up. The man was scared by something. "Just don't hurt me!" he cried in terror with a soft echo. "Someone help!" Out of the shadows another man appeared, the reason the scared man was backing up. The attacker was hunched over and severely deformed.

The deformed man swung a hook in his hand, slicing into the other stomach, spraying blood. The flickering lights exposed the brutal scene as the monster shoved the hook into the man's belly with another spurt. The scene went dark and the defenseless choked, sputtered and gasped in pain as he was lifted off the ground. The light went dark and Jack backed up in horror at what he had just seen. Just outside the bathysphere window the creature was watching the metal hooks he was holding glowing like blazing hot iron in his hands.

The lights flickered for a moment exposing how truly deformed he was, torn clothes, flesh and a mutated face. The lights went out again. "Is it someone new?" It asked. With a shriek it jumped to the left, and with the sound of ear-splitting metal tearing, sparks began raining down. Jack crouched to the ground, covering his ears, and stared at the ceiling. It was coming to kill him. This was not how he planned to die.

Metal panels fell down and wires broke free. Then, suddenly, there was silence. The creature jumped down several feet from the bathysphere, deeming him not worth the time or effort, and departed. Jack sighed with relief as the radio burst to life and a static filled voice came through. "Would you kindly pick up that short wave radio?" Jack quickly grabbed it, relieved that at least someone sane was there.

The radio continued in the thick Scottish brogue. "I don't know how you survived that plane crash, but I've never been one to question providence. I'm Atlas and I aim to keep you alive. Now keep on moving, we need to get you to higher ground."

The door opened and Jack stepped out. He looked around at the city beneath the sea, Rapture.

Jack's parents had always told him.

"Son, you're special. You were born to do great things."

You know what?

He was starting to think they were right.

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Plug Time:

Savior by Duskblood


End file.
